( 𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞-𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊) — wolfsbane for a werewolf

Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

In other words, a lycanthrope, who under the full moon appeared freakishly similar to a regular wolf yet was anything but. Once a month, his human self was invaded by a demon with human-like eyes, a short snout, and tufted tail.

But Remus Lupin was also her friend. He was a son and a brother and above all, a person.

He wore knitted jumpers and cardigans. He had an affinity for chocolate. He loved reading, and would die on the hill that Muggle literature exceeded magical literature.

Those were the reasons why Evangeline had returned; she cared for him, and had grown to share a bond with him that didn't compare to anything else. It wasn't because she had romantic feelings for him — no, of course not. At least, that was what she told herself when she lay awake at night, yearning to feel the warmth of his touch.

That night had been a busy night, to say the least. Scouring the stores of Knockturn Alley for notoriously inaccessible herbs and potion ingredients was not for the faint-hearted, much less those who were running on virtually no sleep.

But it would all be worth it to help him.

Evangeline had returned at dawn. The Yorkshire moors looked exceptionally beautiful in the morning, misty and dewy over the backdrop of a bleeding sun. It stretched out its golden arms, warm and welcoming, vivid hues of red, orange, and yellow when she stepped into the garden to assess Remus' condition.

It was way worse than what she had expected; a million times, in fact. There were lots of fresh gashes, searing across his alabaster skin, weeping tears of crimson. Her heart lurched into her chest as her eyes prickled with tears, before she collected herself and cast a levitation charm to bring him in.

The brunette settled him on to the sofa in the living room, careful to not stain any of the upholstery. He didn't need anything extra to worry about when he woke up, that was for certain. Even asleep, there was a deep crease between his brows, as well as the sheen of sweat from the struggle tainting his skin.

The next few hours were spent brewing the Wolfsbane Potion; the first batch of many, the Rosier girl decided. It was a complex concoction of aconite, pulverized black quicksilver, giant moonwort, and myrrh pickled in carrow-spider ichor. She smiled in satisfaction when it began to emit a faint blue smoke, before leaving it to ferment.

It was only when Remus began to stir in his sleep that Evangeline busied herself with the next necessity: Essence of Dittany. It was decidedly a simpler solution to make, requiring only dried and crushed dittany leaves, soaked in fifteen drops of salt water.

Her stomach was a strange pit of nerves when he finally woke up. She couldn't find the right words to say, so she just stayed quiet. But then again, what could one say in a situation like this? Instead, she rushed into the living room, abandoning the makeshift potioneering set-up in the kitchen.

Evangeline kneeled on the wooden floor beside Remus, her anxiety slightly eased by the close proximity. He was still quite groggy as she wrenched the stopper off the healing potion. She took it and poured three drops on to each of the bleeding wounds. Greenish smoke billowed upward and when it had cleared, she was ecstatic to see the bleeding had stopped. The wound now looked several days old; new skin stretched over what had just been open flesh.

''Thank you.''

His voice was so hoarse and scratchy, she winced at the sound of it.

The brunette looked up to meet his tired eyes, so full of vulnerability and embarrassment. ''You are welcome,'' she decided was the best response.

A few minutes of silence ensued whilst she healed some of the more minor scratches with her wand. ''I hope you feel better,'' she smiled, smoothing the grey-flecked hair out of his chocolate brown eyes. ''I did my best, but I am sorry if it is not enough.''

''You have helped me more than most have in a very long time,'' he paused. ''Why?''

''Why should I not have?''

''I'm a monster,'' he told her, utterly nonplussed as to why she hadn't ran for the hills upon finding out. ''I don't deserve help or sympathy, especially not yours.''

Evangeline swallowed hard. ''You do not know what you are talking about,'' she expressed, before leaving to make him a cup of tea. Not too hot, but not too cold either — the perfect temperature, so that he could drink it straight away to ease his sore throat.

''You aren't . . . scared of me?'' Remus asked, completely baffled.

''This is coming from the same man who folds his socks and wears knitted cardigans,'' Evangeline laughed lightly, before a somber expression overcast her face. ''You are still you, Remus. Your little furry problem does not define who you are a person, because that is what you are — a person.''

He laughed; it was croaky and like nails on a chalkboard, but she had actually managed to make him laugh at a time like this.

She frowned, unsure of what she had said to bring on such a reaction. ''What is so funny?''

''You said ❛little furry problem❜,'' he repeated, the ghost of a smile etched onto his face. ''That's what James and Sirius used to call it, too.''

''Well, in that case they clearly had good taste. Especially if they accepted you for who you are.''

''You won't . . . you won't tell anyone?''

He was ashamed to even ask such a question; he knew Evangeline better than that. But if there was anything Remus had learnt in his almost thirty-five years of living, it was that people could be deceiving.

''You clearly do not know me as well as you think you do if you have to ask that,'' she replied, but she wasn't offended. How could she be? ''But I understand why you did. No, Remus, I will not tell anyone — under one condition.''

''What may that condition be?''

''You let me help you,'' she said, completely serious. ''I do not care about your excuses and explanations, either. You will let me help you, and that is final.''

''I don't deserve your help,'' Remus repeated weakly, although he could see this was a loosing battle. Evangeline could be far too stubborn for her own good. ''More importantly, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I ever hurt you.''

''You didn't hurt me last night,'' she promised. ''Besides, as you already know, Wolfsbane Potion allows you to keep your mind after you have transformed . . . it may or may not be fermenting in your kitchen as we speak.''

''As much as I appreciate that, Eve,'' he began, warily sitting up in his seat. ''I can't ask you to do that. The ingredients are far too expensive and difficult to find. And you never know — I could still hurt you in the future.''

Evangeline smiled softly, reaching for his weathered hand. He clasped her youthfully soft one in his own as a blush tinged his cheeks. ''Do you trust me?''

''With my life.''

''Then it is settled,'' she decided. ''Now, which one are you more in the mood for: ❛Dracula❜ or ❛Romeo and Juliet❜?''

a/n     i can imagine some people will be wondering why remus didn't put up more of a fight, and the reason for that being is bc as of now they're just 'friends'. but don't worry, there will be conflict very soon lol